#this got way longer than intended oops

[polliwoggers]

been struggling to draw lately so i went through some older stuff of mine and found this, only to realize i never posted it. i don't imagine anybody's still doing stuff for this weird social media-clan au thingy anymore, now that the meme of it has died down, but anybody's free to these names for whatever uses they want, if they want them :)

bonus lore to get it out of my head:

Yarrow-whisker was the previous medic before Quarrypaw, who has yet to gain their full status as a medicine cat in their absence

Geckopaw and Prairiepaw are siblings. Yewtail is only a so-so mentor at the best of times, so Foxfire effectively mentors them both. However, Prairiepaw has swooped in to support Yewtail when they decide to do something stupid and unsustainable on multiple occasions. they really shouldn't have been granted an apprentice tbh. i recently re-read Fire and Ice in the original warriors series so the parallels to Graystripe being a poor mentor to Brackenpaw are intentional

Skypelt came out of retirement to mentor Duskpaw, since they serve such similar real-life purposes. Skypelt doesn't understand everything their apprentice says or does but is generally supportive of such a similar application

Marsh-singer, Whitestep, and Thymeface are all siblings, and are collectively the youngest of the warriors (not accurate to the actual ages of the applications, but eh). to say they are all total gossips would be an understatement. they're also really interchangeable and forgettable. like the Runningwinds of apps.

depending on how positively you want to view the whole "reincarnation" trope some of the canon warriors books have, you could say that Tickpaw is a reincarnation of Musiclight. Otherwise, they just look really similar.

all of the "Cats Outside of Clans" cats are kittypets, with the notable exception of Furzebark, who is a banished rogue with a concerning amount of influence on the Clan(s?). maybe there's a whole band of rogues who are based on insidiously/surprisingly influential applications or online entities! various appstore/playsotre applications could fall under this category, as well as like. roblox, apparently. which is beyond weird to me since that's a game and not a wider application, but it got scarily profitable during lockdown, so...

Redpaw was Yewtail's sibling, but died during their apprenticeship. Probably to the same thing that killed Gravelpounce, but i have no idea what that would be

Flaxflower is generally considered WAY too old to still be alive (since the real internet explorer died a bit ago by now), but since he'd "find a way to be late to his own funeral", he has yet to kick the bucket.

the whole twittypet drama is EASILY the juiciest gossip the clan has had in ages, ESPECIALLY the half-clan checkmark-kits. in-universe, im interpreting the poor management of twitter that's been driving it into the ground irl as a negligent cat owner unintentionally driving their pet to spend more time outdoors with other cats (namely, dashclaw) to get away from them, which resulted in kittens. drummed-up anti-kittypet sentiment aside, many clan cats looking in on the situation just feel bad for her.

Vinewatcher is the most consistently "present" of the StarClan spirits, but is also the most consistently unhelpful. numerous potential prophecies later turned out to just be inside jokes of theirs they decided to continue rehashing into the afterlife. Quarrypaw, having not gotten much experience identifying what makes a legitimate prophecy yet, finds this exceptionally annoying behavior, and would like them to stop. They do not.

[aspecbuddie]

Thinking about Buck and Eddie living together for the first time. Eddie and Chris come back from Texas and they all agree that they can cohabitate until a suitable second place is found. (Or until Eddie or Buck confesses, but neither of them are quite there yet.)

Part of the reason they agree to it is that there's no way it won't work. They've both lived in this house. They've both either lived or stayed here with Chris. They've spent seven years living out of each other's pockets at the fire station and during the first few months of the pandemic.

Buck offers to sleep on the couch, Eddie says he'll take the couch and Buck can have the bed. They decide to just share the bed, saying that if the house search goes on for longer than hoped, then they will reevaluate - put a sofa bed in the lounge, or Buck offers to find a different house to crash at in the interim. But for now they share the bed.

Besides. Buck is on shift 3 nights a week, and Eddie doesn't have a permanent house or shift yet; he's subbing all over the city, and there's only a couple nights a week they're both in the house.

They don't anticipate any issues. But they both very quickly realise something is different. This house belongs to both of them and neither of them at the same time. Eddie's always been the head of the household but Buck has only recently gotten to the point of feeling like the house is his, that he doesn't have to check with Eddie before he does stuff.

They're constantly bumping into each other - figuratively and literally. Neither of them are sure where they stand. (Chris watches them in the kitchen from the doorway sometimes and just rolls his eyes.)

Buck puts his laundry on and twenty minutes later Eddie is panicking because he was counting on doing a quick load before his shift but the timings won't work now and he's going to have to dig out some clean clothes from one of the unpacked boxes in the garage.

Eddie is in the middle of a huge, messy, cooking thing when Buck gets back with groceries, and there's no room to put the bags, so he ends up sorting through his purchases in the next room and bringing stuff through an armful at a time. (The fridge is fuller than it was when he left for the store and now he can't fit anything in.)

All the issues are relatively small and mildly irritating more than anything. And no one is in the wrong for any of it. They're just both used to being the person in charge of the place they're living. They're not used to having to double check each other's plans.

Outside of the house - at the bar and at friend's houses and when Eddie finally returns to the 118 - everything is normal. They're closer, even, after months of living in different states.

But living together is just so awkward. They're living two separate lives in the same four or five rooms at the same time. They find themselves apologising to each other daily. Making awkward small talk and slowly slowly getting used to checking in with each other about the important house stuff.

But neither of them really wants to leave either. There's small moments where things feel normal. Maybe even a new, better normal. The three of them in the lounge watching movies on Friday evenings, knowing that none of them have to go home at the end of the night.

They're all already home.

[leighsartworks216]

Fuck, thinking about Raven who has never had a chance to get a license or anything bc they grew up on the streets being taught how to drive by the twins. They're so embarrassed by it because jesus fuck these two chuckleheads can be relentless in their teasing, which is why they tried so long to keep everything so close to their chest even when Sylus was privy to those secrets

They try to keep that big tough facade on while they sit in the driver's seat. Kieran's in the passenger seat, and Luke's leaning up from the back. Sylus with an arm on top of the car, leaning down to casually look in through the window. He's got a smirk on his face, entirely too amused by this turn of events, no matter how hard they glare at him

The twins go through everything so fast, going on off tangents and really only vaguely being helpful. But, Raven's used to soaking up info like a sponge. Information is the way of life out here, after all. Sylus watches on with quiet impress as they start the car, adjust mirrors (reaching out the window to nudge him aside so they can adjust that one; he chuckles at that), and test out the pedals with a short rev. He's smart enough to step away when the twins eagerly talk as one to tell them to step on the break, shift into drive, and floor it

They glare at Sylus in silent warning later on not to breathe a word about it. He just remarks that the twins were taught how to drive in the N109 Zone - rules of the road are myths

After the embarrassment has had some time to pass, Sylus says he has a surprise for them. Takes them out to the garage where all his cars are lined up, but at the end are a pair of bikes. His own, of course, big and bulky. And the other, smaller but versatile and quick. He nods them toward it, saying that he thinks they'll like this a lot better than driving a car

Patiently goes through everything they need to know in a much better way than the twins. Gives them tips and pointers, adding onto what they know from riding behind him on his own bike before. Fondly straps their helmet on with a smirk. Opens the garage doors and shows them how to kick off

They take to it like a bird to the skies. It's rocky at first, of course. Sylus sticks by them the whole time, correcting them every so often through a headset connecting the two helmets, but it's not too long before they shoot him a quick grin, hunch down, and speed off right in front of him. He chases behind with a laugh. Two crazy spirits in the night, loose and free

[cluster-b-culture-is]

hey!!! if its ok i’d like you’re thoughts on something ig and to sorta ask you something

so im bodily 15 atm, and i have cptsd. when i look at posts regarding certain cluster b experiences (possibly some cluster c aswell) i relate a LOT (obviously im not saying that bc i relate that i have these disorders, i just kinda have a feeling that *something* is going on). its tricky bc i keep looking into things and i cant really find an answer. i also dont know if im too young and that its just because im a teenager.

i wont get into like what “symptoms” i experience rn bc i feel like thats a whole other conversation but yeah.

i hope i dont sound like one of those people that are like “i must have x bc i related to a silly video i saw” im just really confused and i feel like something aint right

i know you’re probably not professionals so feel free to delete or ignore this if its too much, but if not, what do you think?

So, here's the thing (and we will attempt to avoid being patronizing): It is absolutely correct that your age and emotional/psychological development can affect things, and that the process of development can cause things that look like mild symptoms. It's also correct that that combined with c-ptsd (and any other disorders you may have; you'd be surprised how many symptoms and comorbidities autism, ADHD, NPD, and BPD all share) can make it extremely hard to determine where your symptoms are coming from and whether there might be something more.

(You're also correct that we are not professionals; this is all coming from our own research and personal experiences, so as with everything, take this with a grain of salt.)

However. I would argue that it would be far more harmful to deny any possibility of having a personality disorder until you reach some arbitrary age threshold than it would be to say that you do have a PD. Especially if looking at your life experiences through the lens of having a PD is helpful, and if resources for pw/[x]PDs are helpful to you. Even if you don't end up having a PD, that doesn't mean you were just a hormonal stupid teenager refusing to listen to the Adults™ or whatever the fuck--it means that you looked at your experiences, found something that seemed similar, and it turned out that you were wrong; but hopefully, along the way, you found things that were helpful.

Under the assumption that you have done a lot of research, I would personally recommend saying that you have traits of a particular disorder as opposed to saying you have the full disorder, and that is to two ends: one, a lot of adults with PDs (especially in ASPD spaces, if that's one of the disorders you're looking at) will kick your shit to hell and back if you even insinuate that you think you may have the full disorder (which I think is extremely counterintuitive if we want teenagers to understand their experiences and, yknow, not develop a full-blown personality disorder, regardless of whether you think teenagers can have a full personality disorder); and two, it might help you target the specific symptoms that you're experiencing without saddling you with the belief[/knowledge] that you have an incredibly stigmatized and lifelong disorder.

A lot of this stuff depends on a few things: (A) what your symptoms are (and if they can be better explained by other things, especially other things you know you have); (B) how severe your symptoms are (like the difference between being generally grouchy versus being actively hostile); and (C) how long your symptoms have lasted (if they only started popping up in the past few months or the past year versus if you've had them for years and years).

If you end up not having a personality disorder, anon, I think it will still be better for you in the long run to explore the possibility instead of shrugging it off under the excuse that you're "too young". It could turn out that you never had the disorder and it really was something else, it could turn out that you have traits but not the full disorder, or, hell, it could turn out that, by using resources and support you found by being part of communities surrounding PDs, you ended up not developing the full PD (even if you may still have a few traits)--because, at this age, you are still developing, and you are changing a lot, and very little is set in stone when it comes to these types of things--and you should absolutely take advantage of that! And even then, speaking from a more selfish perspective, it will never be a bad thing for more people to understand what it may be like to have a personality disorder.

For a bit of actionable advice on determining whether or not you may have one, though:

(1) Do your research. Obviously it's great that you're getting information from people with the disorders themselves by looking at PD communities; however, not everything having to do with the disorder will be talked about, and quite honestly, Tumblr is a terrible place to find definitive information on the PDs. Life experience? Yes. Actual information looking at how the disorders work and what they can entail in full? Ehhh, not quite. Look at a variety of academic sources, but in the same vein, keep your wits about you--professionals aren't immune to ableism, and may often perpetuate it with glee. Some of it may be obvious, some of it might not be.

(2) Keep an eye on your symptoms--make a manual check against the actual criteria every once in a while (but keep in mind that the DSM is also deeply flawed and biased); @shitborderlinesdo has a ton of checklists based on the DSM and individual testimony that can help. We first started questioning ASPD when we were 14, and we'd do those kinds of manual checks once every several months or once a year or so. It both helps you understand what your symptoms are, and helps you keep track of how you're doing over time. Don't use online quizzes for this; quite honestly, they're not really good for anything except validation if you know you'll get a high score.

(3) Look at stuff other than personality disorders, too, and try to figure out why your interest skews towards specific disorders. For a long ass time, we believed we had StPD and did our absolute best to ignore any information to the contrary, because (due to our symptoms) if it wasn't StPD, the only thing it could be otherwise was schizophrenia, and we were scared shitless of the idea; at first because we were scared of the idea that our symptoms might've been so severe, but eventually because we were afraid to admit that we were wrong. (As I've said before, no shame in being wrong--do as I say, not as I do.)

Ultimately, I can't stop you from doing anything, and I can't force you to do anything either. I'm just a mentally ill guy with an internet connection. My life experiences have led me to this conclusion, and others may disagree with it--that's perfectly fine. Again, I am not a professional. You know yourself and your experiences the best, and I think by this point, you have enough understanding of yourself and the world to be able to figure out what'll be best for you and your health, given that you have the proper resources to do so. You are a being with life experience, even if it's less than others may have; you aren't a rock, and you aren't a three year old who still hasn't realized that touching the lit stove will equal a burned finger. I personally think that the way a lot of folks go about talking to and about teenagers who think they may have personality disorders is, frankly, infantilizing and invalidating, and it just ends up with traumatized and unsupported teenagers turning into traumatized and unsupported adults, with the added bonus of an extra helping of imposter syndrome to top it all off.

I hope you're doing well anon, and I hope you see this (sorry for responding so late lmao). Off into the world ye may go, hopefully with a bit more knowledge and idea of what to do next than you had before.

[writing-good-vibes]

Did you you decide to do that story where Roger….husband,father and Adulterer teaches Corey how to swim

ahh i can't lie i have been thinking about this story, thank you for asking and giving me an excuse to talk about it more !! also, i love that description of roger lol

this story only really exists in my head at the minute, but hopefully i'll put it together in a better way than i'm about to, so that it can exist as a bonus chapter for the main story. basically, besides it being about learning how to swim, it's also about corey and roger hugely blurring the line between flirtation and fatherly support.

to set the scene: they do make it to the pool -- one of those big blue hotel pools with glass windows looking out at the city and a sauna off to the side -- after their post-breakfast activities. corey stays firmly at the edge in the shallow end, watching roger swim laps.

corey tries to insist he's okay where he is, but roger keeps playfully trying to lure him further into the pool and swim laps with him ("work up that appetite of yours") and corey kind of has no choice but to admit he doesn't know how to swim.

honestly, swimming really hasn't come up that often in corey's life, so he is just a little embarrassed at having to admit this for basically the first time to someone (even though plenty of people can't swim).

this admission takes roger by surprise to be honest, he really just assumed it was a given that corey -- an adult -- would be able to swim. but he reigns his reaction in, tries not to let corey see his surprise, because he knows it would only embarrass him further. "hey, that's okay. how about i teach you, hm?"

roger taught jeremy to swim when he was 4 or 5, not that long ago really, and the similarity in the situation is absolutely not lost on him.

they start with the total basics, letting corey get used to just floating in the pool, first on his back and then with his face in the water. before they get to more effective swim strokes, roger stands a few feet away and lets corey doggy paddle his way over to him. corey, pink-cheeked with embarrassment or exertion, complains "i can see you moving", because roger isn't being half as sneaky as he thinks he is about taking a few steps back as corey gets closer.

when they move onto "real" swimming, corey almost shivers when roger puts his hand on his stomach to keep corey up so he can kick his legs. neither of them mention it when roger's thumb just barely slipping beneath corey's waist band. neither of them say anything when roger's fingers glide down the back of corey's thigh when he tells him to keep his legs straight.

maybe roger shouldn't feel as proud as he does when corey swims his first clumsy length of the pool, but he does. he taught corey that, he literally and figuratively held corey's hand, he gave corey this milestone.

corey keeps close to the edge the whole way, but they do end up in the deep end and roger absolutely shouldn't like it so much when corey clings to him instead of the pool-edge when he realises he can't reach the bottom to stand up.

their kiss tastes like chlorine.

[monogatcri]

❝ Ugh, great. Now I’m the bad guy. ❞

━━ ˟ ⊰🍁MORAL AMBIGUITY NEVER OCCURRED TO the mind of thousands , writhing onward toward their moral high ground or the depravity of forgoing the quandary of day by deciding solely on the night ; Niwa had taken the high horse in his past, moral righteousness a folly that had led to his own premature burial. Black and white. Black and white... Black and white... That's how he wanted to desperately keep the world, a disgusting habit that made him feel so uneasy when there came those of shades that entered his life ; unfortunately, he knew that the world would never just be a grey spectrum... After all, he currently traversed the lands of Sumeru with the one who'd all but destroyed his lineage.

        From their conversations of mercenaries and shady scholars, the whole of this nation felt painted in hues of silver with the sprinkling of gold mixed in to outline their motivations. Can he blame a hawk for snatching an innocent rabbit when that was the circle of life? Something so haunting about that statement clung to him, soaking into his clothing like the sweat off his neck into the cotton fabric worn upon his back...

        A breath, hot had left him, attempting to cool himself off by swiping a hand over forehead when he'd felt his arms grabbed tightly. Whether by mistaken identity or a random act of violence, Niwa couldn't be sure, but the tightening of joints 'round his skin beneath was enough for him to wince.

        Everything happened so fast -- the yank of his arm hard enough to pull it nearly from its socket, his other arm reaching for his blade at his hip, the gruff vocals that complemented the rugged appearance, the rising of his own sharpened -- oh, no, he could clearly recall how rusted and poorly maintained his blade was -- weapon above his head.

        By chance, the confrontation had an equal chance to end with one of them managing a hit off the other ; however, the one whose bloodlust surpassed that of the one ready to end a life wasn't even in the midst of the battle -- wasn't initially aware in the moment...

        Barely a second to process it, the wind he so cherished on days he sat upon sandy shores to fall into bouts of nostalgia, flew by his countenance, assailant's body flung so aggressively back that the resounding crack! against ruined walls must have been heard for miles, voices were immediately descending upon the scene and irises were quick to flinch as it dawned upon him that who'd once been alive seconds ago no longer released air from his lungs -- what's worse? beneath the exterior was a flash of lightly hued blue fabric -- the worst? the second man standing directly next to him, whose voice called out fiercely for help.

        All possibilities came flooding his mind -- a set up? Was it rational to come to such a conclusion? Were they meant to harm that man...for some purpose to be accounted for?

        Expression lit up in horror, his mind reeled but he'd bury down his feelings, slamming the dirt with the shovel to keep them at bay while hand snatched the wrist of his companion, yanking him away from the scene as the forest path came to life with those who monitored the wellbeing of flora and fauna alike within -- or were they accomplices to this duo...? It was that thought that caused his feet to move, unwilling to risk their lives in disadvantaged territory. The blur of the bark only ceased as breath finally leaves him and the sounds of distressed yelling faded behind, his arm pressed to ancient Adhigama.

        ❝ Ugh, great. Now I’m the bad guy. ❞

        If not for the dire circumstances of what'd transpired earlier, he might have already snapped at him, demanding to know what he was THINKING exerting that much force upon a man like that, but...luck would have it, he cannot find enough energy to unleash a lecture -- not for the moment... There might have been no intention to forgo caution to the wind and cause serious injury such as that ; it must have been an accident -- a slip of power. He, instead, inhales deeply, pulling back a fraction of his energy to turn, pressing back to surface to lean...

        An apology lingered on his tongue for being so distracted to not sense the shift in aura around him, but he resisted ; it'd accomplish nothing except delegating pity. Anger, remorse, swirling repressions spun like a spider weaves a web, yet what comes out is a mess instead of an intricate display: ❝ Is that why you warned me about them? I thought...I thought they weren't scholars. ❞

⊰🍁ᴛᴀɴɢʟᴇᴅ sᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ

[seokmashu]

idk why does mnet want to portray ricky as an intimidating person in the first place (but ngl i thought he was that intimidating until i see previews of him during ollie's bday event just as what you've mentioned)

he definitely has a lovely side of him that mnet doesn't seem to show us (fuck mnet)

it's bc mnet didn't want more than one chinese member in zb1 hmm idk 🤔

based on previous seasons of produce and gp999 it's pretty obvious that mnet would prefer to have a mostly korean team with maybe 1-3 foreign members, so it's (sadly) unsurprising to see how the editing subtly promotes the members that the producers advocate for and either ignores or evil edits the rest

although i'm glad their bs vote manipulation got called out in the past, it's crazy to see all the little ways they still tried to manipulate the audience's votes through editing, screen time, interim rankings, etc and i'm sure this will just continue in the future :(

that being said i'm so glad we've been able to see more of lovelicky since their debut!! i didn't know how mischievous and funny ricky was until after the show and his dynamic with gyuvin is so fun to watch :') i'm sure we'll be able to see the hidden sides to the other members too esp when the reality show comes out!!! I'M SO EXCITED AAAA

[noelxbe]

a performance i looked forward to

"and i wonder what i did to end up here, but i'm happy for whatever i did"

...

it felt like it’d gone fast, it had gone fast, hadn’t it?

while his sister was a big fan of the kpop world, noel had almost ignored it, barely listening to music besides the song he had learned on the guitar. she’d attempted to drag him into it, it was all so amazing she said, the dancing, the rapping, the singing, every part of it, but noel had been busy with school and work, barely giving it any attention. his sister might be disappointed about finding out she doesn’t really have any input in why noel wants to become an idol, it’s actually another friend that started it all. it was actually a fellow project green member who had been the start of it all: lee seojun. the two were friends, noel unaware of seojun’s interest in dancing until he saw him performing in public, and that’s when it happened, that’s where his interest for dancing came from. there seojun had been, and noel couldn’t stop looking, it was so interesting, how the other body’s moved, it seemed fun, it genuinely seemed fun. he’d never given dance much interest, if any at all, but seeing a friend dance had managed to change it all.

liking dance isn’t the same as wanting to become an idol though, noel originally had no intend in becoming an idol or really do anything dance related. he started practicing dance by himself, learning kpop choreographies, terribly attempting to choreograph himself. the interest in dance might’ve gone down had next gen not come around. he’d stared at the ad for ages, wasn’t sure if he wanted to become an idol, but joining the show seemed interesting, it would be an opportunity to grow his dance skills, wouldn’t it? it would be a chance to finally dance. slowly on the show, though he constantly got scolded, he realized he genuinely wanted to become a trainee, do something dance related, dance might’ve been a newly found love for noel, but he was quite invested in it. had he not gotten a contract through next gen, he’s still not sure if he would’ve attempted to get a contract again, but he did get a contract, so there was no need to worry about he ifs. 

and then he became a trainee, and he got the chance to practice his dance way more than he used to, of course there was other things to learn as well. songwriting had been thrown his way, he struggled with it in the start, but eventually managed to write a few songs. he had to attempt learning singing and rapping as well, couldn’t really become an idol if all he could do was dance. then he grew a slight interest in choreographing, lime entertainment was truly teaching him so much. and it was the coaches and trainees at lime entertainment that led him to this moment: not afraid to perform in front of seniors and higher-ups.

yes noel had been curious when he heard of project green, even though he didn’t really know what it was for. he was finished with school, so he might as well join he thought to himself. what the project group was for though, he could only guess, were they testing out the lime trainees? was it for some reason noel could not think of, or was there a possibility of debut? at last the last option was chosen, noel was in a group that had the potential to debut. sure it was scary to learn, made noel nervous, it felt like he was so close to debut now, he’d hate for something to happen, he honestly didn’t want to go back to being a regular trainee. as said, it had all gone so quickly. seen a friend dance, grown interest in dance, joined a survival show to learn dance skills, becoming a trainee, and now genuinely wanting to debut. he had a degree, he had a plan b, but he so desperately wanted to achieve plan a, to debut, sure this was a dream he hadn’t had for long, but everything in him could tell it, he wanted to debut, so he had worked hard to be here, to perform, and hopefully giving a successful performance.

performing for seniors and higher-ups, noel takes a deep breath before they go up on stage. had this been like in next gen, his heart would’ve been pounding like crazy, he would’ve been sweaty and feared the worst, now he was truthfully excited. he’d practiced hard, and he knew the performance he was about to give would make you able to tell that, that noel had worked hard, that all of the project green members had been worked hard. it’d taken a while, but noel was at last confidence in his dance skills, and he had happily helped his fellow members with the dancing, and it had felt nice being able to give help and not just ask for help.

it’s time. he finds his position, siren isn’t a long song, noel has a lot of lines when you think about how short it is, but it has a difficult choreography, one that noel has worked hard on though, and he’s ready to show that. he manages to get one deep breath in before the music starts, his body immediately reacting to the music, ready to do what he’s practiced so many times.

there might’ve been a time where noel would’ve been scared to death to perform here in front of seniors and higher-ups, standing on stage now and performing everything he had learned and practiced a million times, all he could feel was hope, hope that he would do this again, perform, perform in front of the seniors and higher ups again, perform in front of other people, perform in front of hopefully future fans. though the song isn’t long, it feels so short once they’re done, he’s practiced breath control, not too worried about that, and he’s ready to give a good performance for duty free as well.

he’s thankful to be here.

[sorcerer-edits]

Hello. this is such an odd request, but could I ask for a homura akemi & jonathan sims themed stimboard? They're my favourite characters ever ahaha... (<- obsessed)

not odd at all! they are more similar than one may think at first. took slightly longer than I was intending, but I hope you enjoy. 🎉 it is posted!

[tfdtreasurer]

It seems like it's always the case that when people hate on Eridan, it's because they just take everything she says at face value. And like, why? What about her being a dunk on hipster aesthetics screams her being totally 100% authentic? What about her admitting her overdramatizing and theatrics screams that what she says is what she truly believes? What about the pretentious everything about her screamed "not pretending." When she talks to Rose, one of the most genuinely illuminating passages you can read about her character, she straight up calls herself "diabolical" and the grain of nobility "vvillainous." That's the most fuckin based anti-monarchy line in Homestuck and it's HERS. The important thing being that truly evil people don't frame what they do as evil. They excuse, they justify, they rationalize. Eridan has evil expected of her and so she performs the part.

If you want to say that Eridan does truly believe in those things because she's just a joke character and so has to be simple, then sorry to say but you're not enjoying the actual joke. The joke with Eridan is that she feels the need to "present" as evil and villainous and so chooses the most comically drastic thing to pretend to champion and as a result nobody believes her. That's a funny bit! It'd be like saying your secret passion is killing cute fluffy bunnies because you're just so wickedly twisted. I wouldn't believe you.

1) "the only reason she didn't was because it would make Feferi upset!"

That's the comically flimsy excuse as to why she doesn't press the "succeed in all my stated goals" button that makes her entire existence ironic. It's another nested joke in the whole affair. And importantly, she was pursuing other doomsday devices than Gl'bgolyb, which are the ones Feferi says she stacks up against herself. Why would she pursue these if she already has the perfect doomsday device? It's not genuinely because it would upset Feferi, it's because the image of having gone to evil emporium to supply your dastardly deeds is more important to her than actual using anything purchased at evil emporium to do dastardly deeds.

2) "but she destroyed the matriorb!"

Yes, and that's the tragedy, ffs! Eridan was always obviously pretending to want to kill all the land dwellers, for all the reasons said above, and destroying the matriorb reflects a whole ass other motivation. If you want to say that Eridan destroying the matriorb is the fulfillment of a genuine genocidal prerogative, then that's still a massively important shift in goals that isn't even consistent with the claims taken at face value in her intro. That shift from not really believing in killing all land dwellers to believing there's absolutely no hope for anybody at all, land or sea, is SAD.

Eridan misunderstanders somehow don’t grasp that what somebody says about themself isn’t often congruent with what their literal actions say about them. For god’s sake, his entire character is this 13 year old’s poor attempt at image crafting. You haven’t been there? Don’t tell me you haven’t been there. I can’t believe you’d read that introduction and the pesterlogs and trust that everything he says is legitimate and representative of reality when his own friends know he’s full of shit and even poke at that in the text itself. A mental breakdown after an apocalyptic event doesn’t suddenly validate the lies he tells himself and others, ones he’s failed to legitimately act on during every other chance he’s had. It’s all there in the text. It’s so obvious you don’t even have to read into it. I get that Homestuck is long and there are lots of details to forget but seriously, pay attention before acting like we are delusuonal.

[messrmoonyy]

- The Forbidden Fruit

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC

A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )

AO3 | Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl. 

Unfortunately you were no different. 

In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you. 

Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover. 

But no. 

Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel. 

He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked. 

And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday. 

Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde. 

In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest. 

But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin. 

Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either. 

And today was no different. 

“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed. 

He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others. 

You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return. 

“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s. 

“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling. 

“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”

“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way. 

But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard. 

He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better. 

‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘ 

He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself. 

He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh. 

“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “ 

You. 

He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you. 

“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks. 

He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch. 

And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away. 

But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors. 

“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you. 

Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men. 

“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged. 

“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “ 

“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “

You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours. 

“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company. 

You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both. 

“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods. 

“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little. 

“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “ 

“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away. 

“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “

“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another. 

“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette. 

“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you. 

Someone was finally listening. 

“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were. 

He blamed it on his fatigue. 

“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been. 

“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “ 

He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked. 

“ Really? “ 

“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”

“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours. 

“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded. 

“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “

“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded. 

“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen. 

The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him. 

He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done. 

“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were. 

Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman. 

“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank. 

“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “ 

Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.

Oh he was such a fool. 

“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little. 

“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “ 

His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.  

“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.

You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it. 

“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “ 

“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest.  His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment. 

How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you. 

“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “ 

“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again. 

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice. 

He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more. 

Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating. 

Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his. 

“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless. 

“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face. 

“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “ 

He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you. 

You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which. 

You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain. 

But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch. 

He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought. 

“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt. 

He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night. 

“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly. 

“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants. 

“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates. 

He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous. 

He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon. 

He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted. 

“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough. 

“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now. 

Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t. 

“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “

“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you. 

You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water. 

“ well ain’t you a sight “

Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch. 

He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them. 

“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care. 

“ I ain’t like that “ 

“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants. 

He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison. 

“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.

“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved. 

“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw. 

“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “ 

His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were. 

“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it. 

But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did. 

“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make. 

“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance. 

“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle 

“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “ 

“ no “ 

“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked. 

“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him. 

“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again. 

You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you. 

And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to. 

“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs. 

“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you. 

He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other. 

“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate. 

“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew. 

But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted. 

And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired. 

The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it. 

You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him. 

His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined. 

He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips. 

“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first. 

He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars. 

The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well. 

Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair. 

“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks. 

“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “ 

He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once. 

Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell. 

“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “ 

He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra. 

And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.

“ Arthur- “

Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little. 

He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers. 

He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted. 

“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips. 

Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly. 

“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “ 

“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.

He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it. 

But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back. 

“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “

“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him. 

You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “ 

He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily. 

“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh. 

“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might. 

“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch. 

He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm. 

“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you. 

“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing. 

“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed. 

He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him. 

“ god- oh god “ 

“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.

“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “ 

He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again. 

If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there. 

But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide. 

He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it. 

“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up. 

“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours. 

“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “ 

“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep. 

“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked. 

“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “ 

“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word. 

“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “ 

Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans. 

He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.

He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever. 

And then he came to his senses. 

“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist. 

“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours. 

“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more. 

“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers. 

After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips. 

He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least. 

“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “ 

“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more. 

“ you know, i might just take you up on that “ 

He sincerely hoped you would. 

Update: I currently have ZERO intentions to ever write a second part to this. I have been asked so many times since uploading this originally that I’ve lost count. But I have absolutely no ideas or inspirations for a second part at any point in the near. Or far. Future. It was always meant to be a stand alone like all my one shots are. But tysm for the love <3

[meganegatari]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[littlexdeaths]

𝕝𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕘𝕠, 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥 (𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖)

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: reader is a bit insecure, little sprinkle of jealous eddie, reader wears glasses, smooching, also the finest cheese in all the land (i hope) <3

part two | part four

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this ended up bit longer than i intended so oops. but big thanks to @strangerstilinski for brainstorming some ideas with me to further cheesify the kissing scene. and another HUGE thank you to @undead-supernova for helping me with fix some things and for looking this over. I LOVE YOU BOTH <3

“What do you mean you didn’t kiss him?!”

You quickly turn to give Nancy a pointed glare before digging deeper into your locker to retrieve your biology textbook.

But really, it is a valid question.

“I— just,” you blow out an exasperated breath. “I panicked, alright? Trust me, I’m just as disappointed as you are.”

While your date didn’t end on a bad note by any means, it definitely ended on a lame one.

When Eddie dropped you off at home after the two of you spent way too much time cozying up in a corner booth at Benny’s— you weren’t entirely ready to say goodnight to him yet.

But when he walked you to your front door and carefully started to lean in, those pesky nerves got the best of you. Instead, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before he had the chance to reach your lips.

Feelings of disappointment clawed at your insides once your lips brushed against the stubble on his cheek instead of his lips, your tinted chapstick leaving a tinge of pink in its wake. 

Eddie cleared his throat, carefully rubbing the back of his neck while he bid you goodnight. 

You’d barely shut the door behind you when your smile faltered and all those feelings of self doubt you’d managed to push aside all night came creeping back in. 

Everything was going so well, why couldn’t you just kiss him? It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed someone before. 

Your first kiss happened your sophomore year, with band geek Ray Howard in King Steve’s coat closet during a stupid game of 7 minutes in heaven that neither of you enjoyed. 

If you were brave enough to do that, why couldn’t you kiss the guy you actually liked? 

“Well, when are you gonna see him again?” Nancy prompts. You shrug once you slam your locker shut.

“I don’t know… I’m afraid he’s not gonna want another date. I mean, I gave him a peck on the cheek! How lame is that.”

You hug your textbooks to your chest as you head to class with Nancy, who is desperately trying to convince you that Eddie would be insane if he didn’t want to see you again.

You just hoped she was right.

When you don’t see him at lunch, you instantly deflate a little. The doom and gloom that lingers outside the school now mirrors your mood, taking any semblance of your appetite with it. You hadn’t seen him all day, so that only seemed to confirm your worries.

He’s avoiding you. What else could it be?

It’s not like him to skip out on lunch, so instead of heading further into the cafeteria you turn heel to head toward the library— 

And almost collide directly into Eddie.

His leather clad arms instantly wrap around you, a teasing smirk playing on his full lips. Lips you so desperately want to feel pressed against your own.

“Sweetheart, we really gotta stop meeting like this,” he teases, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “One of these days you’ll take both of us out.”

You let out a nervous giggle and an apology, relief filling your chest as his smile grows wider in response. Damn Nancy for always being right.

“Where are you headed in such a rush anyway?” he asks, finally letting you go, much to your dismay.

“Uh… the library. Wasn’t feeling super hungry.”

He nods, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. He looks even prettier than when you saw him on Friday. His curls are a little more unruly, his stubble more pronounced. 

And when you catch the faintest hint of cigarette smoke lingering on his jacket and how it mixes with his spicy cologne— it has your heart stuttering in your chest.

“Well, anyway, I was wondering…”

A small grunt leaves his lips as his body is forced forward, directly into yours. The jock that just shoulder checked him mutters a “watch it, freaks” under his breath before continuing past you into the cafeteria.

The shove has closed the remaining distance between you, your faces merely inches apart now. Your palms rest against his chest, feeling how his breath slightly quickens beneath your fingertips. You could so easily kiss him like this, all you have to do is tilt your head up…

But you choke, eyes darting back down nervously toward your feet when you take a small step back.

“Are you alright?” you ask, meeting his eyes once more.

Eddie doesn’t even seem phased by what just occurred, his warm eyes entirely still focused on you.

“Oh, that’s nothing, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “I can handle myself.”

Eddie motions to his torso, lifting the lapels of his jacket as if to prove his point.

“See? Not even a scratch.”

And it takes all your self control to keep your eyes from wandering lower, past the soft cotton of his shirt, over the handcuff buckle of his belt…

Focus.

“Now, what I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” his voice raises in volume, eyes throwing a pointed glare towards the jocks table before they settle back on you. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Eddie nods towards the Hellfire table, your eyes drifting across the cafeteria. The familiar group of males are already seated at their usual spots, engaged in a heated debate over something.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Eddie can sense your hesitation, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I promise they don’t bite.” He grins, beginning to lead you toward the lunch table. “Can’t say the same for me though.”

He whispers that last part, his lips playfully grazing over the shell of your ear. Eddie can feel how you shiver in response, thoroughly satisfied with himself as you try to compose yourself once you reach his friends.

The guys barely spare either of you a passing glance, still deep in their conversation when Eddie pulls up a chair for you. Right at the head of the table next to his own.

You take a seat with a polite smile, each of the members of Hellfire now noticing your presence. And they can’t hide their utter shock and surprise as Eddie takes his seat beside you. He introduces you properly, going along the table until he reaches the two youngest members of Hellfire.

“While we haven’t been able to coax Sinclair back from the dark side,” he sighs, resting his arm on the back of your chair. “You obviously know Wheeler and Henderson already…”

“Oh, Mike knows her alright,” Dustin interjects, mischievously glancing over at his best friend. “He used to have the biggest crush—”

Mike elbows Dustin in the side before he can even finish his sentence, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as he hangs his head.

“Would you shut it?” he hisses, already noting the way Eddie’s gaze hardens as he tugs your chair impossibly closer to his own.

“No… Henderson, please continue.”

A brow quirks up from underneath his bangs, and suddenly the whole table has gone silent, all eyes on their fearless leader.

Dustin nervously swallows, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “It was… really stupid kid stuff, not important! Just forget I even brought it up. It was just a dumb— ”

The younger male’s voice raises an octave when he laughs, his nerves shining through.

“— right, just a dumb little crush,” Mike finishes, but Eddie doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

When you suddenly rest your hand on his knee under the table, his composure begins to slip. His eyes soften when he looks down at you. The whole table is practically holding their breath, in anticipation for Eddie’s next move.

But you beat him to it.

“Someone had to be the president of my fan club, right?” you giggle.

Mike just groans in response, head falling to the table while the other guys begin to chatter amongst themselves again, that underlying tension now beginning to melt. Much like you are under the weight of his gaze.

“Well, I’d gladly take over that position, if you’d have me.”

Your breath hitches at the underlying meaning behind his words, and, god, you’ve never wanted to kiss him more than you do right now.

When Eddie slowly begins to lean in, Dustin practically gags, the chiming of the lunch bell stopping everything in its tracks.

“Saved by the bell,” he mutters under his breath.

The brunette unwillingly rises to his feet and reaches out a hand for you to take, keeping you closely tucked into his side while he walks you to your next class.

Your mind was racing the rest of the afternoon, impatiently watching the hand on the clock tick by ever so slowly— desperately waiting for the final bell to ring.

After Eddie had walked you to history, he planted a playful kiss to the back of your hand. Giving you a dramatic bow before heading in the opposite direction toward Ms. O’Donnell’s classroom. 

You were a fumbling mess once when you took your seat next to Nancy, and you could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to know everything.

So you spilled the beans during your walk to English afterwards, a plan beginning to form in your head with each step closer to Ms. O’Donnell’s.

Three failed kissing attempts was all your poor heart could take, so you spent the entirety of the last period plotting how you’d be able to get Eddie alone.

Which was how you found yourself pacing back and forth on the football field, eyes scanning the trees for any possible signs of movement. The palms of your hands are sweaty despite the crisp air, the fabric of your sneakers dampening with each step you take through the wet grass.

And you’re wondering if maybe this was a stupid idea, that maybe you heard Jeff wrong.

You knew Eddie dealt weed, the whole school did. But having never dabbled with the leafy substance yourself, you weren’t exactly sure where he made his deals at. So it was a stroke of luck when you overheard Jeff mention it in passing to Grant during English.

Something about how he was going to be late for rehearsal because some jock wanted to buy a bunch of reefer behind the football field. And who was Eddie to refuse a good sale? Especially when the douche was offering him a lot of money.

You’re abruptly broken out of your thoughts when you finally see his lanky figure emerging from the tree line and your heart kicks into first gear— about ready to burst out of your chest with each step he takes towards you.

His curls are a little damp from the mist hanging in the air, that signature dimple indenting his cheek when a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

And despite your nerves, it’s a welcomed sight.

“Well, I didn’t take you for a stoner, sweetheart,” he begins.

But you don’t give him the chance to give you a proper greeting before you’re springing into action. Your fingers curl into the collar of his denim vest, meeting him halfway as you lean up to press your lips to his…

Only to end up knocking your heads together instead.

A small grunt of pain leaves him and your stomach twists in embarrassment, fingers gently pressing against your forehead as you wince.

“Oh my god, I am so—”

Those words barely have a chance to slip past your lips before he tilts your chin up and carefully molds his mouth over yours. His movements are slow but steady, as if gauging your response.

Your body reacts before your mind can fully process what’s happening, instinctively reeling him in closer and pressing your lips more firmly against his own. He hums softly, the sound setting your whole body alight.

As Eddie slips one of his hands around your waist, the other reaches up to tenderly cup your cheek. And when he begins to guide you backwards, you let him. Only stopping once your back is flush against the goal post. But even then, he doesn’t stop kissing you.

You can feel the cool metal seeping through the thin layer of your jacket, causing goosebumps to rise on the surface of your skin. But even with the cool air continuing to nip at your exposed skin, you feel like you’re on fire.

His lips are like molten honey, sugary sweet and practically melting you to your core. And you swear this is the closest to heaven you’ve ever felt.

When he eventually pulls away and you take a shuddering breath in, your eyes remain closed. You’re practically on cloud nine, basking in the lingering tingles that prickle over your lips. His hand remains on your cheek, thumb brushing over where his lips just were.

Eddie suddenly lets out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating against your chest while his breath washes over the apples of your cheeks. Only then do your eyes flutter open and you realize the reason behind his amusement.

Your vision is completely obscured, the round lenses of your glasses fogged over from the heat of his breath. You can just barely make out his smile through the frames, but the silliness of the moment has you letting out a giggle of your own.

“May I?” he asks, the tips of his fingers grazing over where the arms of your glasses meet your temples.

You nod immediately, allowing him to remove them with the utmost care. He untucks his Judas Priest t-shirt from his jeans, using the soft cotton to clear the fog away from your lenses. Even with your blurred vision, you manage to catch a glimpse of his tummy before it’s hidden away beneath his shirt again.

When his eyes flick up to meet yours, he can’t help but feel like he’s really seeing you for the first time. Not hidden away behind a book or the thick wire frames of your glasses. Just you, in all your unbridled beauty.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he carefully places your glasses back onto the bridge of your nose.

Eddie just grins, leaning his forearm on the goal post above your head. He smells faintly like weed and peppermint gum, and you really want him to kiss you again.

“How’s about I give you a ride home, hm?”

You can’t hide your smile, nodding your head enthusiastically.

“I’d really like that.”

Eddie leans down to press one more searing kiss to your lips before he slips his hand in yours and pulls you along. The two of you now walking hand in hand across the football field.

“So, sounds like I’ve got some competition with Wheeler, huh?” he teases, squeezing your hand a little tighter in his.

“Oh come on, you’ve never had a crush on a babysitter before?”

Eddie takes a step in front of you, beginning to walk backwards while simultaneously guiding you forward.

“Well… considering my only babysitter was starting to bald and my uncle,” he practically shudders, “I’m gonna say no, sweetheart.”

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld

[ch6rm]

✧ ࣪˖ how angel!reader & dealer!chris met

˖ soph's note yayyy first blurb about this au, it's a bit longer than i intended (oops) but more coming soon i promise <3

the music thudded through the walls, the house packed with people you didn’t know. it wasn’t your scene—not really. your friend had begged you to come, promising it would be fun. instead, it was a bunch of people spilling drinks everywhere and messily making out in every corner of the house. not really your jam, but you made the best out of it.

you wove through the crowd, flashing friendly smiles and striking up conversations with anyone who didn't seem insanely drunk. you had no idea where your friend disappeared to—probably off to hook up with some guy. you figured you might as well make some new friends while you were at it.

after chatting with a couple of people about nothing in particular, you spotted a quieter corner of the house. as you approached, you noticed a guy lounging on a worn-out sofa, a back beanie on his head and a joint resting between his fingers. another guy sitting beside him slid him some cash before getting up and strolling away. it clicked in your head, and you realized they were probably doing some sort of drug deal. maybe you should have walked away, but there was something intriguing about him, and you found yourself walking over.

he looked up, anticipating the sight of someone wanting to make a deal, but instead, he was met with a girl who looked way too carefree for this scene, bright smile cutting through dim light of the room.

"can i sit?" you asked, watching as his eyebrows shot up in slight surprise. you almost expected him to say no, but after a moment he gestured with his hand and invited you to take a seat. you settled down beside him, the worn fabric of the couch slightly rough against your skin. he didn't say a word as you sat, fiddling with the lighter in his hand. you figured he probably didn't want some random girl sitting down next to him, no intention of buying anything he's got, but you couldn't help but steal glances at him, intrigued by his laid-back demeanor.

he finally looked over at you, and there was something in his gaze—a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. “what’s your deal?” he asked. you blinked at him, caught off guard by the bluntness of his question.

“my deal?”

“yeah,” he said, nodding toward the crowd. “why're you sitting here?”

you shrugged, offering a small smile, unfazed by his tone. "why not? i was bored of walking around.”

he hummed, taking a slow drag from his joint. the smoke curled up into the air, mingling with the heavy beat of the music. “so, you sat next to a stranger with a joint and a wad of cash? bold choice.”

you pursed your lips at his statement, before glancing around the room. after a moment of silence, you looked back at him and spoke up. "okay... well, we don't have to be strangers. what's your name?"

he raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. he had expected you to take the hint and leave. “chris,” he replied, the edge in his voice still present. “and you really think it’s safe to sit here?”

you almost laugh at his question, a smile finding it's way to your face. “safe?” you echoed, not missing a beat. “oh, come on. what’s the worst that could happen? you sell me some bad stuff?”

chris let out a low chuckle, clearly amused despite himself. “yeah, that’s definitely one way to look at it.”

“well, i’m not too worried about it. i don't get into that stuff.” you said, gesturing toward the table in front of him. a silence settled between you again, and you realized he wasn't much of a talker. that didn't stop you though. after his lack of response, you spoke up again and told him your name.

eventually, the tension in chris’s posture began to fade away—the edge in his voice disappearing as you began to chat. once you started talking, it was kind of hard to get you to stop. he didn’t offer much at first, but his occasional chuckles and quiet remarks kept the conversation moving.

“are you always this chatty with strangers?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"sure, but aren't strangers anymore, remember?" you say.

he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “guess not,” he muttered, leaning back against the couch and still watching you with that same curious look. "what are we then? friends?" he says, his tone laced with slight sarcasm.

you grinned, "yeah, friends.”

there was a brief silence as chris looked at you, like he was contemplating something. after a moment, he let out a quiet laugh. “alright, sure. friends it is.” he wasn’t one to make friends at parties where he was dealing—especially not sweet girls like you. but, for some reason, the idea didn’t seem all that bad.

as the night dragged on, you checked your phone, realizing it was getting late. “i should probably head out,” you said, standing up. chris looked at you for a moment before he stood up and flicked the ash off his joint, setting it in the ashtray.

“i’ll walk you out.”

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his proposition. “don't worry, you don’t have to-”

"it's fine, c'mon," he shrugged nonchalantly, already beginning to walk off. you smiled at his words, immediately nodding.

“okay!”

you both made your way through the house, the noise of the party fading as you stepped outside. the cool night air hit you, and soon, you were standing next to your car.

“well,” you said, unlocking the door. “i'll see you around, then?” you hoped you would—he was the only person at this party you’d actually enjoyed talking to, and you'd even forgotten the part where he was a drug dealer. normally, you’d be a little apprehensive, but with him, you didn’t feel an ounce of fear.

chris gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable as he watched you. "yeah," he said, his voice low. "see you around."

© ch6rm

🏷️ @sweetestpoetic | comment here or interact with this post to be added to my taglist

[cagedharmony]

" I can only hope so, but i have faith they'll grow up wonderfully. " the way the children's faces lit up and showed pure joy and hope for the future always warmed robin's heart. they had so many questions and were always learning new things it reminded her of when she and her brother were just little kids. such a time was so far away from the present it was hard to believe they could be so little with the world looking much larger than it was.

some of her most fond memories were the times she and her brother would have their private concerts as children. how sunday's face would light up so full of joy while she would sing and dance on their tiny makeshift stage. they had so many dreams for the future it was such a magical time. yet that time had long passed and now the two were adults walking their own paths in life. it was nice to be able to inspire others as her brother once inspired her yet she wished she could see sunday's face light up like it once did. he seemed so lonely and distant now as if he were hiding himself deep in a cage. she was worried over him but she knew he would never truly open up about anything he might think would upset robin. it was difficult to care so deeply for one another but be at such a position she knew something was off but she couldn't get any answers.

" ah-- "

aventurine's question snapped her out of her negative train of thought. hopefully the other hadn't noticed any falter in her expressions. now was a time to be speaking with someone who had business with her brother and someone who robin had found quite pleasant to chat with.

" i unfortunately don't get many opportunities to make friends with my work keeping me so busy. " she gave a dismissive wave as a huff of a sigh slipped past her smile. " it can be hard to find and make friends so i'm often with either my brother or someone related to work if i'm out with anyone. " it wasn't as if she was against making friends but it seemed as if most people treated her like someone unreachable rather than someone they could befriend. perhaps it was in line with stardom, but it didn't make things less lonelier. " you always seem to be quite fashionable and, if we're being honest, i would rather an opinion from someone who won't tell me everything looks good even if it's ill-fitting. my brother is awful at telling me anything critical like that. "

it's not that he believes or thinks she is weak. no — he knows she is strong. there is no way she would be in the business she is in if she wasn't in some way. if not counting that, her childhood — well the little he was able to dig up about the siblings during his research for the trip — is all the more reason he believes robin couldn't be weak. he knows better than anyone how a rough childhood — no matter the degree of it all — raises someone. even if she could handle it, he does not want to subject someone to the ugly reality of his life. all that matters is how they perceive him now — as aventurine of the stratagems.

he let out a soft laugh filled with endearment. he has heard the stories of her hanging with the children a few times & despite that, he still has a hard time imagining it. not because of the type of person she is. no — she is as kind & pure — hearted behind the cameras as she is in front of them. a miracle, really. the thought of her running around with children in her pretty dress & low — heeled shoes is just amusing to him. he wouldn't be caught dead in his fancy & overly expensive clothing around children.

" how adorable. " he leans forward, elbow on the table as his gloved hand props his chin up. " you really seem to love those children. i bet they will grow up to be great people, having you around as a role model. " glass is placed down on the table since he finished it. fingers softly tapping the base. aventurine would probably not admit it out loud but it really isn't a secret that the stoneheart enjoys shopping. the fancy clothes & god knows how expensive accessories give that away. though — he very much prefers spending his money on others than himself. his constant showering of gifts to the people he considers ' friends ' is more than enough evidence to back that idea up. it's his way of feeling useful in some way.

her features lighting up is contagious as he gives her a bright smile back. though it doesn't quite reach his eyes — it's a lot more genuine than other smiles he has given. " it's no problem at all. if i were to be honest — i'm surprised you consider me a good candidate. i apologize if this comes off the wrong way, " there is a small pause — thinking what to say next. " i couldn't help but wonder as it sounds like you go shopping a lot with your brother — do you not have any female friends to go with ? certainly hanging with the girls must be more enjoyable than little ol' me or your dear brother. "

[burningembers91]

Sweet Like Chocolate - Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

War-Torn Love Keeping Hope Alive

Synopsis: When your services are required in the trauma centre, emotions between you and Baek Kang-Hyuk bubble over.

Baek Kang-Hyuk had photos of every patient he’d ever saved. Their frames adorned every inch of every wall in his office, spread across every spare surface of his windowsill and desk. There were twenty years’ worth of stories in those photos, each one representing a life he had saved. There was only one person he’d never managed to take a photo with, the one life that had meant the most to him out of everyone: you.

Your face had plagued both his nightmares and his dreams for the last two years, visions of both saving and losing you that kept him awake at night. Kang-Hyuk had searched so desperately for you, but never had he imagined that he would find you more broken than you were that day he found you on the roadside. The woman he knew was no longer there, replaced by a sad, scared, bitter shell. He knew the old you was somewhere deep down inside, and he kicked himself time and time again at his decision to let you leave on that helicopter without him. If he’d been with you, he could have made sure you got therapy, that your scars were properly tended to and cared for. You were his patient, and he had failed you.

After that day in your office, he made sure he took the long way round to the trauma centre each day, just so he could pass by your office. Your conversation had shattered him, had left him heartbroken at the way you viewed yourself. You were still so beautiful to Kang-Hyuk, still as perfect as you were the day he’d first laid eyes on you. He could tell the fight in you was still there; it was evident in your sheer determination to avoid him at all costs.

You didn’t want Kang-Hyuk’s pity, you didn’t want to be something he needed to fix. He’d always had this incessant need to help every single person he came across, his desire to heal broken people almost an obsession. You wanted to let him help you, wanted to open yourself up to the man you’d fallen in love with, but you were so ashamed. You were ashamed of the way you looked, of the way your damaged leg felt like something that wasn’t part of you anymore. You were ashamed of how bitter you’d become, viewing the world with a constant sour taste in your mouth. You were ashamed that you didn’t want to let Kang-Hyuk love you, when it was quite clear he’d never given up hope when it came to you. You did your best to avoid him, for both your sake and his, but nothing lasted forever, and eventually you had to face the music.

The trauma centre was already wildly understaffed, and the essential paperwork required for each case was in desperate need of sorting. Your name had been pulled, requested by Kang-Hyuk himself, to go and assist in bringing the paper trail up to speed. You’d argued profusely, but once Kang-Hyuk had made up his mind, there was no turning back.

You found yourself standing outside his office, your arms folded across your chest as you waited for him to answer your knock. Your blood was boiling, a deep raging simmering inside your veins. How many times did you need to make it clear that you didn’t want his help? Did he really think that trapping you in his stuffy office with a mountain of casework was going to make a difference? “Come in!” His voice sounded through the thick wooden door, and you pushed it open a little harder than you’d intended, sending the door crashing back into the pristine white wall behind it. “Oops,” you muttered, marching over to the spare desk that had been set up for you. Your eyes immediately went to the wall in front of you, covered from floor to ceiling in pictures. In each one of them Kang-Hyuk posed with a different person, from all walks of life, each one beaming into the camera. He’d told you about his polaroids, about his need to capture the image of every life he’d saved. He’d told you that losing a patient was the single worst feeling he experienced, and each one hurt more than the last. He kept photos of all the people he’d saved to remind himself on dark days that he had made a difference.

There was one frame, directly behind his desk that didn’t have a photo in. It was a dark brown frame, and in place of a photo was a chocolate bar wrapper. You were instantly transported back to the refugee hospital in Afghanistan. That night, you and Kang-Hyuk had shared that bar of chocolate, savouring the sweet, rich cocoa as it melted on your tongue. That was the first night he’d kissed you, his hands gripping onto your waist as you held each other in the darkened hallway. You hadn’t been able to eat that brand of chocolate since, the memory of that night too painful for you. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel his lips on yours, could still taste the chocolate on your tongue. If you focused hard enough, you could still remember how his breath felt against your neck, how his voice sounded when he whispered your name.

Kang-Hyuk watched you as you took in the frame, saw the tears spring to your eyes as the memories came flooding back. He could still remember how you tasted that night, the chocolate mixed with your shea butter lip balm. He could still remember how soft your skin was, how sweet your moans were as his lips caressed the soft contours of your jawline and neck. That wrapper was the only thing he had to connect himself to you, the one physical piece of evidence he had that his feelings for you hadn’t been a dream. “You kept it,” you whispered, your eyes not leaving the frame. “It was the only thing I had of you,” Kang-Hyuk replied, pushing his chair back and gingerly making his way towards you. He didn’t want to scare you away, but he needed to close the gap between you, needed to be as close to you as you’d let him.

You could feel the energy between you, the atoms in the air almost vibrating with the tension. It took every ounce of your strength not to reach out and touch him. You knew you both wanted it; both wanted to close the gap and pick up from where you’d left off. But your embarrassment and shame were too great, the damage not something you wanted Kang-Hyuk to see. “I never got a photo of you,” he smiled, “so I used the chocolate wrapper in its place. It was stupid-“ “It’s not stupid,” you told him, “I think it’s sweet.”

He sighed, perching on the edge of his desk as you looked at you. “I regret leaving you every day,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I never should have left your side. I never should have let you get on that helicopter alone.” “Kang-Hyuk,” you smiled sadly, “we both know you couldn’t have gone with me. There were too many others who needed saving. You did the right thing. It’s my fault I didn’t get the help I needed.” “But I should have been there for you,” he cried, slamming his fist down on his desk in frustration. “I would have told you every day how beautiful I think you are. I would have made sure you never doubted yourself.”

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, “this is all on me. I didn’t get help; I didn’t try and fix myself. I looked in the mirror, hated what I saw and didn’t bother to try and change anything.” Tears spilled down your cheeks, a shuddering sob wracking your body. Kang-Hyuk pulled you into him, his arms closing tightly around you. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings until your tears had dried. “I never stopped loving you,” he said, “not once.” “I know,” you sniffed, your mascara stains smeared across his white lab coat. “I never stopped loving you either. I just stopped loving myself.”

His hands cupped your cheeks, wiping away the smudged makeup under your eyes. You wanted him to kiss you, wanted him to take away the last two years’ worth of pain and self-torment you’d put yourself through. Kang-Hyuk learned forward, his lips brushing against yours. That one small, delicate touch was enough to send a spark of desire through your body, every cell of your being alight for the man who had saved you. “Kiss me,” you whispered, your desire for him almost overwhelming.

Just before his lips touched yours, his phone rang, breaking the delicate intimacy of the moment. “I have to get this,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours as he fought between his love for you and his duty to his patients. “I know,” you smiled sadly, clinging to his chest as he answered the call. “I have to go,” he whispered, a few seconds later. “There’s been a crash, they need me on site…” “Go,” you told him, “We can talk when you’re back.” “Wait for me,” he pleaded, “I have so much I want to say.”

Looking back at the desk he’d set up for you, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you joking me?” you smiled, “have you seen the mountain of paperwork you’ve given me? I’ll be here for days.” You watched him leave, listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps echoing off the linoleum floors. You would make sure you stayed this time, promised yourself you wouldn’t run and hide. Time and time again, Kang-Hyuk had shown you that he wasn’t going to give up on you. You never should have given up on yourself, never should have allowed yourself to sink into such a deep, dark hole.

You were tired of living inside a shell, of hiding away from the world. You couldn’t change what happened to you, couldn’t change the decisions you’d made since that fateful day. But you could change what happened next. You could decide to let Kang-Hyuk back in, to pick up where you left off. He still needed that Polaroid of you, the picture of his most precious patient to hang on the wall.

And you needed to allow yourself to open up, to let back in the man who had never given up on you.